Of Spilled Coffees and Revealed Marks
by Miss-shiva-adler
Summary: Magnus Bane, High Warlock of London, has been asked to fill in for a meeting as the High Warlock of Brooklyn is summoned away from New York. He would never have guessed that this favour entailed more than he had bargained for : Namely meeting someone he has been meaning to meet for over a few decades now.


Malec Secret Santa - 2019

**Written for : **Alecisgay

Soulmate AUs | First meetings | Coffee | Fluff | Inquisitor Alec | High Warlock of London Magnus Bane

* * *

Begrudgingly he looked over the report again. It wasn't as if he didn't know the whole agenda already, he just needed to be sure. To say he was stressed was a wrong use of words. He wasn't peculiarly stressed or even anxious. 'Uneasy' or 'discomforted' were more suitable words. He swiped his finger on the holopad. The cruel lack of allies was staring back at him under the form of a list of attendees. At least when Raphael was still the representative of the Night Children, Magnus knew meetings wouldn't be derailed easily. He didn't know who this Simon Lewis was and the way Tessa and Catarina had played it out he was still quite the fledgeling. Neither did he know who Maia Roberts was.

He knew he had been away from New York over fifty years now and things had changed ridiculously over short spans of time. Signing the newly established accords felt like only yesterday, an ordeal that had put down the wars between the Nephilim and Downworlders after Valentine Morgenstern's extermination. But here he was, on behalf of the Warlock council of New York, disclosing new accords that wouldn't only give more territorial rights to everyone but also rights to vote for clave representatives in Idris. Things were changing at a fast pace and Magnus didn't know how to feel about it.

Elation ? Relief ? Pride ? How long would it take for the Nephilims to change their minds and come back on their promises ? Which they had done so very often in the past. Their own interpretations of the 'laws' and 'accords' had cost many innocent lives only a year ago in the London suburbs. It had taken Magnus months to appease the tensions between the werewolf packs and shadowhunters who didn't want to stay in their lane. It was all easier if everyone stopped wanting to be superior toward each other. Alliances were a necessary evil when it was about co-existing as different species on the same soil.

He played around with his now empty martini glass. He still had the feeling he wasn't awake enough for this. Hopefully the meeting would be over as soon as possible and he could go back to London. Fleeing New York, trying to heal his broken heart, still felt like a sore thorn in his side. He disliked being here, disliked dealing with Nephilims, disliked needing to step in because the Spiral Labyrinth needed updated wards and he absolutely disliked the food around here.

He sighed, scrolling back through the agenda points. He stopped in his tracks. A ping echoed and a new name flashed on the attendee list.

'_Inquisitor Alexander Lightwood'_

He raised an eyebrow. Tessa had said there wouldn't normally be any high officials joining the meeting, but it looked like she'd been wrong. He sighed again. He hadn't dealt well with the last inquisitor he had met. Imogen Herondale hadn't been the most courteous woman, especially since she had lobbied to destitute the Warlock council of their privileges to meet for the winter solstice. The celebration required a large gathering of both mundanes and other Downworlders to complete a cleansing ritual. She had seen reason after a few weeks of negotiations and a promise of memory spells being cast upon the mundanes. It had been tedious.

Hopefully Alexander Lightwood wasn't as stubborn and would sway more in favour than against possible changes in the accords.

He made the holopad vanish with a snap of his fingers. He finished readying himself, choosing a more red and black colour palette of clothing, and leaving his hair like it was. There was no need for colour as long as he left his ears pierced with gold. Once his 'armour' was well set in place he opened a portal on the scheduled time.

He killed the feeling of dread that rose up and stepped inside.

There wasn't really a welcoming committee. It was an empty hallway that had a few shadowhunters guarding it. It looked very different from the Cathedral the nephilim used in England. It was smaller, but somewhat cozier. The wood next to the stone gave a contrast Magnus wouldn't have guessed to ever like. But he wasn't entirely swayed even if the renaissance paintings and the stained glass livened up the place. The oppression of the Angelic runes was omnipresent. The wards of the institute were strong and their magic was overwhelming. Magnus felt cornered. Even if Tessa's familiar magic rested upon the walls, he couldn't ignore how every single camera seemed to scrutinize him, scan him. The two guarding shadowhunters made their way to him.

"High Warlock Magnus Bane ?" Magnus squinted, surprised by the friendly tone of voice the shadowhunter was using. This was very different from the usual treatment he got. Perhaps change was indeed on its way.

"In the flesh," he said. The two shadowhunters nodded toward each other and invited him to follow them. He recognized Isabelle Lightwood from the description Catarina had given him. She was standing further away, talking with a seelie representative and someone else. Upon seeing him approach she ended the conversation she was having.

"Welcome to the New York institute. I'm Isabelle Lightwood." Her smile felt so natural, Magnus felt himself get momentarily disarmed. He had known her ancestors back when the Lightwoods were still present in London. Even if they had been good people, they were nowhere near Isabelle's open attitude. He shook her hand.

"Magnus Bane, thank you for allowing me to fill in for Tessa the upcoming weeks, our glamour wards needed an urgent recasting since that mundane plane accident almost made them drop." There was something about her that made him want to talk. She didn't look like the the type of shadowhunter to dismiss and make a comment about incompetence when it was about warlocks needing help.

"All the pleasure is mine, Catarina has said a lot of good things about you, I'm glad I can welcome you in my institute. Although it is smaller than the one from London, I hope you will find yourself at ease. We wouldn't be able to get things done without you." Magnus returned her smile he was about to speak again but they were interrupted by the small cough coming from the man standing next to her.

He was tall, his frame trapped in a simple dark blue suit with a black shirt, his gaze was reserved but confident. Magnus didn't understand how he hadn't noticed the man right next to the head of the institute. The way a rune framed his neck to hide underneath the collar of a shirt that had the two top buttons undone, the way his black hair framed his face, a bit wild, enticing to be played with… Magnus felt himself take an involuntary step forward.

'_And who are you ?'_

"This is my brother, Alec Lightwood. Inquisitor and clave consul from Idris. He will be joining us today. " Isabelle seemed amused but Magnus refused to look away. The way the inquisitor moved in short but calculated movements… the way they were fluid and strong. This man felt… strangely safe, reliable. He blinked a few times. Not really certain if his heart could follow what was happening in his head.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, High Warlock Bane." Magnus felt entranced, the deep drawl made a tense feeling curl up inside of his gut as he stared a bit too long at the extended hand in front of him. Long fingers of a calloused hand that had seen battles and a strong wrist neatly decorated by cuff-links momentarily side-tracked his mind.

He clasped the offered hand, feeling the warmth of the man's hand enclosing his. His heart involuntarily fluttered. Magnus' breath had been knocked out of him and he almost forgot to talk.

"All the pleasure is mine, I saw your name appear on the list earlier this evening." His mind swam and his whole body was just… tense. There was something, something indescribable. Something he couldn't pin-point. He let the hand go. He let his eyes roam over the inquisitor again. His mind clicked in place, understanding he wouldn't mind asking the man out for dinner.

"Yes, Isabelle thought it would be beneficial if I were to oversee the meeting today." The intense hazel eyes stared back at Magnus and the High Warlock couldn't help but smirk. He knew this look, the look of interest, the look of desire with a tinge of arousal, the look of mutual attraction.

"I must say that the very stern name doesn't live up to the charming face I see before me." Magnus instantly took a step backwards when instead of a blush or a well constructed quip Magnus' compliment was met with a scowl. The whole posture of Alexander Lightwood shifted into a defensive stance that made Magnus wonder if the man was planning on attacking him.

"We all have names with history and faces around here, Mr. Bane. But trivial matters aside I so do hope I can count on your complete cooperation and focused attention during this meeting. We will be discussing laws and proposals of primordial importance that will decide the future of the Downworld's society." Magnus knew how to stand his ground, and regardless of the inquisitor's almost unwavering tone, Magnus knew how to read between the lines.

"Oh flirt-lines a bit of a touchy subject with you, Mr. Lightwood ?" He bit back, he shouldn't have but the look on Lightwood's face was worth it. It was a complete stupefied expression that would have made Magnus smile if he just hadn't been dismissed as unprofessional. Because that was something that got on his nerve. How dare he ?

"My apologies, of course the fate of my people comes before any pleasantries and quips. You'll see me completely focused for the next upcoming weeks. No fear." He clenched his jaw, daring the inquisitor to make any other remark. It didn't come and right when either him or Lightwood was about to say something, an arm circled his and he was dragged away by Isabelle.

She said something about guiding him toward his seat. He didn't hear her correctly. His gut had twisted unpleasantly and it downed on him pretty late how Alexander Lightwood had gone from a charming face to a dismissive typical Nephilim in the space of a few seconds. The man had gotten under his skin and it wasn't even midnight yet. He inhaled, trying to concentrate on his steps. Let his energy flow to the ground. When they arrived at the table he already felt less on edge.

"Charming brother you have there," he said. He unlocked his arm from Isabelle, glancing toward the inquisitor who hadn't moved one inch from where he stood… Brooding ? A deep frown was creasing his brow. Magnus dismissed the need to soothe it.

"Oh, Alec is really not used to being flirted with." She sounded amused, which made Magnus turn toward her. She was even grinning. "A tip, if you want to approach him again, try to be less direct. My brother tends to close off immediately when he is feeling threatened." He wanted to retort something but he found himself unable to and she noticed. She noticed and even winked at him.

"Let him come to you, that's the way into his heart." He pursed his lips together, trying to tell her she was getting the wrong idea. But as he glanced back again at the inquisitor from afar who greeted another representative, he could feel himself being sucked back into contemplation. The 'thank you' he muttered through his teeth was almost inaudible.

She left him there as he took his seat. More holopads were handed out and twenty minutes later people gathered around the table. The inquisitor started the meeting with thanking them all. Thanking every one of them to come on such short notice to polish some of the proposals. His charisma was undeniably present, his posture was inviting him to listen to him and his ideas. He went over the agenda points one by one and Magnus realized it didn't cost him any effort to just listen. The deep drawl was focused and leading. Alexander Lightwood was patient and preventively stepped in when things were getting more heated.

And just like that Magnus started to feel at ease. Tension and worries seeped away to become a well-put professional demeanor. People around the table were here to negotiate and Magnus felt that his ideas were listened to. Things were alright. Even if the new Alpha of the werewolf pack of New York was a bit out of sorts she knew how to be argumentative. In a year or two she would make a fierce leader, Magnus was sure of it. Scott would have liked her, had he still been alive.

They were shortly interrupted. The young vampire showing himself was none other than Simon Lewis who apologised profusely for being late. A problem at the DuMort Hotel had occurred under the form of a dispute between two vampire families that had needed resolving. He approached the extensively long table . Lily Chen who had filled in for him made space for him to sit. Magnus saw it happen before the others did. The way where Simon Lewis then by accident bumped into the inquisitor's elbow as the man brought a fresh mug of coffee to his lips.

The pain was scorching, made him jump upright.

"Oh shit I'm sorry…" The vampire apologized.

He clutched his arm, but there was not a scratch to be seen. It hurt and burned and when he raised his sleeve to check his sudden injury there was nothing. His froze. His eyes laid down on the other man who had raised himself at the same time as him at the other side of the table.

Oh.

He could feel his heart hammer in his chest. His whole body tingled with every possible rush of adrenaline. He felt his blood go from intense warmth to icy cold in the span of a second as his eyes laid themselves upon the inquisitor who was quickly undoing the coffee soaked sleeve of his shirt to check the damage.

_Oh._

It didn't look like severe damage was done and the inquisitor was quickly given a tissue to soak up whatever remained in the sleeve. _Alexander_ looked up at him and they stared at each other and it was as if time froze. Everything just got tuned out as silence reigned between them.

His new soulmate was a _Nephilim._

"Is everything alright Inquisitor ?" The question was left unanswered. Both of their fingers rubbed against their respective skins as if to minimize the hurt. Hazel eyes were looking at him as if he was coming from another dimension. As if Magnus had either punched him in the face or woken him up by throwing him to the wolves.

Magnus sucked in a breath, not yet ready to face the realization that downed upon him. Not yet ready but able to look away. So he did, he tore his gaze away and laid his hands on the table for balance, for grounding, trying to desperately refrain himself from either running toward the man or to fleeing the premises. His head swam, his mind sinking into both panic and euphoria.

Their eyes met again. The burning sensation of coffee still seeped through his arm and left an increasingly big red mark on his arm.

"I-" _Alexander_ tried. His voice was low and broken, not living up to what Magnus could read on his facial expression.

And Magnus couldn't talk, his whole throat locked up. From underneath his skin his magic tried to reach out to Alexander Lightwood. It sung a thousand tunes of joy and rejoice, wanting to be close to his unveiled soulmate. He felt everything spiral. The taste of coffee coated his mouth as his body synced with the other man. He felt the angelic magic draw unseen patterns of runes on his arms, his neck, his chest. He felt everything _Alexander_ felt as his senses attuned to the sour and dry smell of burnt-in runes. The lingering pain they could bring, but also their unimaginable power. He felt _everything._

And when he thought it was over it doubled. Magnus felt himself drawn to another, a different kind of link, _Alexander_ and someone else, a parabatai. Something Magnus would have never guessed to ever feel, from the rune right above his hip, Magnus felt the energy, felt their bond, felt Alexander's body as if it were his own. He would feel and see _Alexander_ even with his eyes closed. He could see, feel their connection as if it was his own. His magic sparked, unseen, trying to reunite itself with his soulmate, with _Alexander,_ to become one again.

Magnus wanted to weep.

'_Where have you been ? I've been looking for you for so long now.'_

"My apologies, we will resume the meeting shortly." Magnus could feel the increased heartbeat and the tensing of muscles. He could feel the ragged breathing and trepidation -or was it excitement ? - _Alexander _was trying to control as he tried to keep his voice steady. They both sat back down too much in sync, too mirrored. Magnus was thankful for nobody taking notice when he had stood up in surprise as well when _Alexander_ spilled his coffee.

_Alexander_… his soulmate's name was Alexander and he was a Nephilim, inquisitor and brother to the head of the New York Institute.

A stele was taken. Magnus felt his skin prickle above his hip and the dry and sour taste of angelic magic coated his mouth. Any burning sensation on his arm melted away.

He couldn't concentrate after that. Even if he did, even when he advanced Tessa's points and arguments, even if when he talked people seemed to listen an compliment his proposals. Alexander's eyes never strayed away from him. Magnus tried to ignore. But his heartbeat was in his throat and he could feel and hear Alexander's from across the room. One injury… It usually took a few hours if not several weeks to have the soulmarks awaken and connect, to recognize each other. All it took was one small injury in the form of spilled coffees. Magnus glanced at Alexander again.

He tried to keep his voice strong but a flush was creeping on his neck. They needed to talk. They really, really, needed to talk.

So when the meeting came to an end and a few things were agreed upon, Magnus was thankful for it, even if he knew how to keep his head cool. He would be able to work once his- _no their_ heartbeats calmed and quieted down. Now that there was no fear for injury anymore, their bond even became dormant again after a few minutes.

He didn't sign anything because he preferred to review with both Catarina and Tessa before he continued the negotiations forward. Currently they all entertained the idea of having a High Warlock placed in Alicante. Every party agreed it was an idea to be developed in further meetings, to create a proposal to present before the Clave. It was thrilling, exciting. It made his head spin. A new age of stability was something that was well deserved and needed. He would find himself sending a letter to Clary Fray, the one shadowhunter who had made this all possible. He couldn't wait to meet her if he could.

Isabelle stood up and recited the agenda points for the next meeting one last time before rounding off with thanking everyone. Some people immediately rose to leave. Others stayed to chat. But Magnus ? He was lost in thought.

He had dreamed several times of meeting his soulmate, imagined them to be of all kinds of races and genders. In different scenarios and imaginative dreams he would either save them or be save by them. Or they would even show casual conversations in a bar or a knock on his front door as a client. He would never have imagined meeting his soulmate like this. Not in a shadowhunter institute.

He breathed in, nerves lighting up in him. He started to walk toward the exit. Alexander noticed him walking as he made his way past the newly formed social group were Simon Lewis was engaging everyone in a conversation about the incident at the DuMort. Magnus clenched his jaw, trying to ground himself.

"I will be outside shortly," he said. His eyes locked with Alexander's and Magnus had to control himself not to take a step backwards, anticipating that the intense gaze would leave him breathless.

He forced himself to continue walking, to be casual. He was afraid Alexander wouldn't follow him but once Magnus passed the door he heard the inquisitor call out an apology to his friends because he needed to do something. Magnus felt himself speed up. Not sure why, but it calmed his nerves. He found the main entrance quite fast. He opened the door, making his way down the church's stairs.

"High Warlock Bane."

He breathed as Alexander called out for him.

"Magnus !"

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. There he stood, Alexander Lightwood, his cold and focused expression had melted away. There was hope, confusion, fear now. It was everything at once and he was a bit out of breath. The yellow street lights and high lanterns only visible to the ones with the sight played shadows behind him. Magnus didn't reply. He didn't know what to say. He… wanted to step forward but didn't. Alexander's rejection was still on his mind but Alexander's expression was squeezing his thoughts shut. There was curiosity on those fine and broad traits.

"Your name is Magnus." He moved down the stairs, scratching his neck while doing so as he stopped a step or two from Magnus. He looked beautiful, Magnus thought. "I-" he tried.

"You're a Nephilim," Magnus interrupted. He wanted to soothe away the frown on Alexander's brow, soothe away the fear. The phrase froze Alexander in place as he lowered his hand from his neck.

"You're a Warlock," he replied. Magnus took a step upwards. Breathing in wasn't easy. He felt his stomach twist, jump. He couldn't be aware of them all at once. It was too much.

But also not enough.

"I don't care." His voice wavered. He wanted to reach out. _Touch._ He wanted to touch Alexander. Feel him, touch him, make sure he was real. That all of this wasn't a fragment of his imagination, not some other dream he was having. He wanted Alexander. He wanted his arms around him, embrace him, have his lips on him. He wanted to kiss him.

"Neither do I." Alexander's voice was hoarse. Magnus took another step upwards. They were right in front of each other.

"I know we had a hiccup earlier. When I… rejected you. I'm sorry so sorry. I-" Alexander closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to find words. Magnus tilted his head to the side to let the Nephilim take his time to find his words.

"It's hard for me do these things- flirting I mean." He sounded embarrassed and Magnus felt himself tremble from the butterflies in his belly and his legs shake from their proximity. His head would almost be spinning if he let it.

"I know it wouldn't be appropriate for me to ask and you can always say no. But-" There was a blush coating Alexander's cheeks. "But by the angel can I kiss you ?"

Magnus felt his heart stop, thrum, throb. All of it. He felt all of it. His hands shook slightly as he reached out for Alexander's. He brought them up to his own face. Alexander had a loud intake of breath as their skins touched. Magnus let the hands go as they settled on his jawline and cheeks. He was still trembling and he reached out for the lapels of Alexander's jacket to ground himself again. He could feel the heat, the hot breath upon his face.

"You may, Alexander, you may." As soon as he breathed the words two lips laid himself upon his in the softest way possible.

Magnus floated, feeling every sense open up. He lost control of his glamour if not a little bit of his legs too. His magic roped them together. Like a wave and tendrils of light intermixing with the magic from their soul-bond. He felt his skin prickle as their marks solidified. The wetness of lips and the heat on his cheeks made him almost forget to respond to Alexander's kiss. But he did and Alexander dragged them closer together. He let his hands fall from Magnus' face to circle the warlock's shoulders. The hands felt steadier and when their kiss became more feverish, more them, more movements and nipping at lips, Magnus' head spun into oblivion, forgetting about time and space, forgetting about the world around them.

They had stuff to figure out, places to move, things and boundaries to talk about, political decisions to make, dates to go on to.

But it didn't matter.

Not right now.

Not when after years of searching, yearning and almost giving up, Magnus Bane, High Warlock of London, found his soulmate again.

The End


End file.
